


a rational romance

by thesiege



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Kind of Drabbley, PJO Big Bang, alternating pov, like a collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-18 17:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11879616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesiege/pseuds/thesiege
Summary: percy and annabeth are the respective prince and princess of two countries with tense relations. as a show of peace, athena and poseidon arrange a marriage between the two, but a growing rebel group keeps inciting conflict in both countries and trying to assassinate percabeth so that they fall into war and destroy each other. as they struggle to quash the rebellion and unite their peoples, they slowly fall in love, against their will.





	1. one // her duty

Annabeth nearly breaks her neck, given how fast she wrenches around to gape at her mother in horrified disbelief. “ _ What did you just say? _ ”

Athena sighs, as if she hasn’t just ruined Annabeth’s life completely with one simple sentence. “Why are you making me repeat myself? I  _ said _ , you’re marrying Percy.”

“Percy  _ Jackson _ ?” Annabeth squeaks, feeling her stomach churn violently. “The  _ prince  _ of  _ Triden _ ?” The  _ recently discovered _ prince of Triden who had been living with and raised by his single mother for most of his life and only accepted the role of Triden’s prince and Poseidon’s heir so that said mother could live comfortably for the rest of her life (according to the tabloids)?  _ That  _ prince?

“What other Percy is there?” her mother retorts nonchalantly.

“Wha—how—when—you— _ what!? _ ”  Annabeth splutters. “ _ Mother! _ ”

“Yes?” Athena coolly raises an eyebrow.

Annabeth throws her hands out in frustration, feeling an alarming pressure build in her chest and a matching sting in her eyes. She glares at her mother, rage slowly overcoming her thoughts. “How could you— _ why! _ You didn’t—you didn’t even  _ ask _ me! I’m twenty-two, I’m  _ not _ getting married!”

Athena waves off her complaints dismissively. “Oh, calm yourself. No one asked you to get married right this minute. You can be engaged for however long you like, but you  _ will _ marry him eventually.” 

“ _ I will not! _ ” Annabeth hisses through gritted teeth, her nails digging painfully into her palms in an attempt to stop herself from throttling her own mother. “I can’t  _ believe _ you—you  _ arranged _ a  _ marriage _ for me! And to  _ Percy Jackson _ ! You  _ hate _ Poseidon!”

Her mother frowns. “Exactly. You  _ know  _ that relations between Pallas and Triden have been—well,  _ strained _ , to say the least. Your engagement is a show of peace. It  _ is  _ unfortunate, but it’s the reasonable solution.”

“I’m not some—some  _ stock  _ to be bartered!” Much to her displeasure, Annabeth feels an angry tear slip down her cheek. She digs her nails deeper into her palms to fend of any further display of weakness. “What if I have someone else in mind? Why should  _ I  _ have to give up my freedom to marry whom I choose?”

Athena’s eyes sharpen and her lips tighten, regarding her only daughter with muted disapproval. “I’m afraid you have no choice, Annabeth. You are the princess of this country and you have a responsibility to do what is best for the people. Surely you don’t want war?”

Annabeth just shakes her head, slowly backing towards the door. Her mind is buzzing, her ears are fuzzy; she can’t think, can’t breathe,  _ can’t stay in this room any longer _ . “No. No! I won’t be like  _ you _ ,” she spits and escapes.

She just barely catches sight of her mother’s defeated expression as she sprints out the door.


	2. two // his sacrifice

“Ah, Percy, there you are,” Poseidon booms as he sweeps into the stables where Percy is busy cleaning up Blackjack’s stall. “Athena and I have come to the conclusion that you and Princess Annabeth are to be married.”

Percy freezes in shock mid-sweep. His mind replays his father’s words on loop, but he can’t compute them. “I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?”

Blackjack whinnies softly, swinging his head to stare at the king.

Poseidon chuckles. “I believe it will be a good match. I hear the princess is quite, uh,  _ spirited _ , which will balance out well with your sarcasm. You’ll be meeting her in two days, so do prepare yourself.”

“I’m sorry,  _ what _ ?” Percy’s brain still hasn’t caught up. He’s still trying to process the news that he’s apparently  _ engaged _ . To a certain Princess Annabeth Chase of Pallas. Also known as the daughter of his father’s nemesis and an all-around golden girl and a virtual  _ stranger _ . 

He must have misheard. There’s no other explanation.

Poseidon looks vaguely confused, which would be amusing to Percy in literally any other situation. “Are you going deaf? Barely twenty-two and already losing your hearing!”

Blackjack snorts, shaking his luscious mane.

“I’m almost twenty-three,” Percy corrects automatically, before jolting out of his shock-induced daze. “Wait, did you just tell me that I’m engaged? You—you didn’t, right?”

His father crosses his arms across his chest and nods easily. “I did.”

“You—arranged my marriage? Am I understanding this correctly?”

“Yes, Percy, I don’t see what’s so complicated,” Poseidon complains impatiently. “You and Annabeth are engaged to to be married. It’s a simple concept.”

_ In what way!? _ Percy screams internally. He glares unblinkingly at his father and demands, “ _ Why? _ ”

Poseidon exhales and finally looks mildly sheepish. “Well, our relationship with Pallas has been, hm,  _ rocky _ lately, so your engagement is somewhat of a peace treaty.” He smiles wryly.

Percy squints. “You mean you’re pretty much  _ selling  _ me for peace?”

“Don’t be so  _ dramatic _ , son!” Poseidon shakes his head helplessly. “I’m trying to prevent a war here. Besides, I’m sure you and Annabeth will get along famously!”

There is so much Percy wants to say that it clogs up his throat and he can’t say anything. He barely manages to croak out, “Does Mom know?”

At this, his father actually looks nervous. “There wasn’t time—”

“I  _ knew  _ it!” Percy snaps, the sudden volume of his voice startling Blackjack into huffing and stamping his hooves in agitation. Percy clears his throat, throwing his horse an apologetic look, before repeating quietly, “I knew it. There’s no way Mom would agree to this. I won’t do it.”

Poseidon’s face turns severe and his voice is thunderous: “Careful, Percy. I may be your father but more importantly, I am your  _ king _ and this is not open for discussion. You must understand that when you accepted your royal title and agreed to be my heir, you also adopted all the responsibility and sacrifice such a role requires. There are many luxuries royalty can afford, but many more that it cannot, and love is oftentimes one of the latter.”

“I—I—but—” Percy stammers, shoulders drooping as he is suddenly struck by all the weight his title carries. It’s true that when he became a prince, he knew that he would have to make some sacrifices, particularly when it came to his personal life. But that was a distant awareness, one that was to be worried about long into the future. He didn’t expect— _ this _ .

Poseidon’s eyes soften and he sighs, all of a sudden looking much more his wizened old age of fifty-nine. He strides forward to lay a comforting hand on Percy’s shoulder before exiting the stables silently, leaving only a disillusioned prince in his wake.


	3. three // the meeting

The Meeting, as Annabeth has taken to calling it in her mind, takes place in the large mansion built right by the river that divides Pallas and Triden. It’s just on Triden’s side of the border, but it was built by Pallasians, which Annabeth takes great pride in, especially because she contributed to some of the initial plans for the house.

“Good morning, Athena, Princess Annabeth,” King Poseidon greets cheerily as he jaunts into the spacious and vaulted waiting room, Prince Percy in tow.

Athena regards him blankly. “Poseidon. Perseus.”

Annabeth bows politely before returning her eyes to the king, steadfastly ignoring the prince standing at his side who is currently burning holes in her skull. “Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness.”

She waits for the prince to respond and frowns when the seconds tick by and she hears only silence.

“Son, say hi,” Poseidon mutters as he elbows the prince out of his stupor.

“Oh! Right. Uh, hi, hello, I’m Percy. Which you knew. Obviously.” The prince coughs and turns pink, which is  _ not _ endearing.

Annabeth can practically feel her mother’s distaste in the air; any hope she had of this prince being tolerable, maybe even intelligent, company fades into oblivion.

Poseidon speaks up before the awkwardness settles into cold tension. “Alright, well, Athena, why don’t we leave the kids alone, let them get to know each other?”

“Is there such a need?”

“They’re engaged! They ought to be friends, at least.”

“Hm. I suppose.” Athena scrutinizes Annabeth and Percy in turn. “For the sake of both our peoples,  _ do _ try to look a bit happier about all this. You look like we’re sending you off for slaughter.” Then she glides out of the room.

_ Aren’t you? _ Annabeth thinks sarcastically.

“Have fun, kids.” Poseidon smiles at Annabeth and slaps his son on the back before leaving as well.

Now that they’re alone, Annabeth has no choice but to either look at Percy or study wallpaper. Frankly, the wallpaper is more interesting, but she can still feel him staring at her so she sighs and finally returns his gaze.

Annabeth studies him silently, keeping her face calm and expressionless. He looks vaguely startled; it’s a stupid look on him and she hopes it’s not his normal face.

She grudgingly admits to herself that he’s handsome—artfully messy black hair, piercing sea green eyes, high cheekbones, strong jawline—and has several inches on her. He’s dressed in a neatly pressed white button-down tucked into fitted midnight blue slacks and a matching blazer. The lack of a tie and the open blazer give the outfit a more casual air, but he’s still far more dressed up than she is; she insisted on choosing her own outfit, and her mother had been appalled when she saw Annabeth in her everyday clothes. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Neither of them speak for several minutes as they simply watch each other, gauging the other’s mood. She’s pleased to find, when his surprise wears off, that his normal face does indeed look more self-possessed.

Finally, the prince inclines his head respectfully; Annabeth follows suit.

“Hey,” he greets her. His voice is deep, resonant, and just a bit uncertain. One corner of his mouth ticks upwards into a lopsided grin. It’s charming, disarmingly so, and it throws her slightly off-balance.

She doesn’t let it show, raising one eyebrow and returning blandly, “‘Hello.”

His smile slowly subsides when she says nothing else. “So, uh, we’re engaged. Apparently.”

Annabeth scowls. “Unfortunately.”

His eyebrows shoot into his hairline and he shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “So I take it you’re not happy with this situation.”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously not.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for this either,” he says defensively. “But it’s happening, so we might as well be friends.”

Annabeth pins him with a withering look and sneers, “Maybe  _ you _ can just roll over and take it, but  _ I’m _ going to find a way out of this. There’s no way I’m marrying you.”

He winces visibly. “Ouch. Okay, I may be new to this whole ‘royalty’ thing, but I’m pretty sure that when both a king  _ and _ a queen tell you to do something to stop a war, you don’t have the option to say no.”

“We’re  _ not  _ going to war, they’re just being dramatic,” she mutters. “How can us getting married  be the only way to prevent a war from happening? What happened to diplomacy? Peace talks?”

Percy shrugs, but she disregards him completely.

“There has to be another way. I refuse to give up my—my  _ freedom _ just because my mother and your father are too lazy to think of better solutions!”

Her declaration echoes off the walls of the room when awkward silence falls.

Percy clears his throat. “I’ll help.”

She whips her head towards him. “What?”

“I’ll help you, you know, look for a ‘better solution,’” he elaborates. “I mean, if you want?”

She eyes him dubiously, but concludes that he’s sincere and even the tiniest bit of help should be more efficient than no help at all. Besides, it’ll be good to have him on her side when confronting their parents. “Well...okay.”


	4. four // honest-to-goodness

For some reason, Percy gets the feeling that Annabeth doesn’t like him very much. There’s nothing overt or specific to support his hunch; she just glares at him sometimes, rips herself away from him every time they accidentally brush skin, beats a hasty retreat whenever they’re alone together. She seems to get especially irritated when he tries to smile at her or make her laugh—if Percy were a lesser man, he’s sure he could prove that her looks can indeed kill. Honestly, it’s enough to make a guy second guess every twitch of a facial muscle and every word that slips out of his mouth.

Ever since their parents returned to their respective castles to report the confirmation of their engagement and deal with potential backlash, leaving the only the castle staff and a small force of elite soldiers from each side to ast as bodyguards, Percy has tried to approach Annabeth several times in attempts to become friendly acquaintances, if nothing else. But she rebuffs him at every turn.

It’s a pity because Percy grows more and more admiring of her with every passing day. She exudes composure and wears power so well that he can’t imagine any universe in which she lacks it, whether by birth or her own efforts. She deals with all kinds of people well: polite but not distant, kind but not overbearing, disciplined but not righteous. When she speaks, people listen; when she moves, people follow. She’s  _ noticed _ and so self-assured that the idea of not accommodating her rarely comes to mind.

Percy knows he’s her exact opposite: fumbling where she is neat, silly where she is strict. He knows part of this disparity is his recent entrance into the world of politics and wealth, but a greater portion is owed simply to his personality. Still, he thinks his friendliness is his strength. He’s relatable and empathetic; he may not be able to command everyone with a single look, but he’ll be their friend, which is sometimes more effective when it comes to understanding the daily grievances of the common person. And after all, what’s more important than people, especially when it comes to ruling a country?

But it seems no matter what he does, he cannot make Annabeth like him, or even acknowledge him. He hates to think poorly of people, but he can’t help but notice her judgmental disdain, her self-confidence bordering on arrogance. If it were Percy, he’d want his flaws pointed out to him so he could improve his character, but he suspects Annabeth wouldn’t be quite so grateful.

After a week of this behavior, he’s starting to feel exasperated. How are they supposed to get any plotting done if she won’t even stand in the same room as him for more than five seconds?

“Annabeth,” he calls when he spots her down the hall.

The only visible sign that she’s heard him is her increased pace.

Rolling his eyes, he jogs after her. “Annabeth, hey! We need to talk.”

Right as he’s coming up behind her, reaching out to grab her arm, she suddenly whirls around and spits, “What?”

He stumbles to a stop, trying not to crash into her. “When are we gonna start brainstorming?”

Her eyebrows bunch together. “What?”

“You know!” He gestures abstractly and peers around to make sure they’re alone. “When are we gonna start planning ways to get out of this  _ situation _ ? Shouldn’t we, I dunno, have a meeting, talk about it?”

She’s still frowning. “Can’t you think on your own? I don’t think sitting and talking will be any more useful than thinking separately. Besides, I concentrate better when I’m alone.”

“Haven’t you heard the saying ‘two heads are better than one’?”

“I don’t have time—” she begins, but Percy interrupts her before she can finish, which he  _ knows  _ is rude and he  _ knows _ she won’t appreciate it, but at this point he’s running low on patience.

“Look, I just—did I do something wrong, offend you somehow? Like, I don’t—why do you keep avoiding me?”

She looks startled for once; Percy takes a slightly sadistic pleasure from causing her to feel an emotion that’s not disgust. Her lips part but she doesn’t speak.

“Look, just tell me and I’ll try to fix it,” Percy continues, prompting her to explain. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

She tries, “It’s—not that I’m  _ avoiding _ you—”

“You’re avoiding me,” he cuts in flatly, looking unimpressed.

She exhales noisily and glares at him. “Stop interrupting me! Do you want an explanation or not?”

Percy mimes zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

“What are you, five?” she mutters haughtily. “Okay, look, I don’t want to get married to you, I don’t want to be friends with you, I don’t even want to  _ like  _ you. I’m sure you're a—a perfectly nice guy—”

“Wow, the sincerity,” he smirks sardonically.

“—but I don’t want to give my mother the satisfaction of seeing me accept you into my life in any way.” She tilts her chin upwards, as if her justification makes any logical sense.

“So...you’re throwing a tantrum.” He hopes he looks  _ extremely _ unimpressed; he certainly feels it.

“What? No!” She flushes, frowning at him. “I’m showing my mother  _ and your father _ that just because they’re the respective rulers of our two countries  _ doesn’t _ give them the power or right to just—play with our lives like this!”

“Basically, a tantrum.” Percy sighs and shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re twenty-two years old, Annabeth. You’re a little old for this kinda behavior, don’t ya think?”

Her face scrunches into itself and her face turns an ungodly shade of red, but she doesn’t yell at him like he expects. Instead, she spins on her heel and stomps away, presumably to cool down. Percy considers leaving her alone, since she seems to be truly angry, which he will definitely need to apologize for later—he only meant to tease a bit, but she took his words so seriously!—but decides to trail her, just for a bit, to make sure she doesn’t act out in anger.

He keeps his step light and quiet, leaving a good twenty feet of space between them as he nonchalantly strolls down the hallway, past the floor-to-ceiling windows, through the greenhouse, and all the way to the gym.

_ Exercising her emotions away, good call _ , he muses. He hovers just outside the propped-open doors, hoping that no one will catch him acting like a creep.

She enters what must be the locker rooms and comes out five minutes later in a sports bra and running shorts. Percy is momentarily distracted by the defined lines of her abdomen and the lean cut of her arms and legs.

He watches as she approaches a tall blond man, older, who greets her with easy familiarity and a killer grin. His T-shirt and shorts do nothing to hide his well-toned muscles, which Percy does  _ not  _ envy at all.

They chat as they strap on boxing gear; the man actually manages to coax a little laugh out of Annabeth. Percy gapes at the unprecedented sight.

Finally, they climb into the ring and face off, tapping gloves to signal the start of the fight. They circle each other for a long while, both light on their feet—and then Annabeth makes her move.

She’s obviously strong, but more than that, she’s  _ fast _ . Still, the man easily dodges and swipes back at her lazily, nearly cuffing her on her temple.

Watching them spar makes Percy jittery, restless; he doesn’t move like them, all disciplined and strategic and well-practiced, but he’s pretty scrappy and he really wants to test his own skill against them.

He’s practically bouncing on his feet, leaning so far through the doorway he might as well just step inside, by the time they stop analyzing each other and just go for it. Percy watches with bated breath as they clash again and again, both so swift and powerful.

It takes a lot of near-misses for Percy to finally see the truth. It’s not just skill that allows them to keep dodging the hits; it’s intimacy, experience, a true understanding of each other’s reasoning and abilities. Annabeth and this man know each other very well and judging by the ecstatic grin on her face and the answering smirk on his, Percy thinks there might be something more than friendship.


	5. five // revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not altogether happy with this chapter, but i have to stop tinkering with it. i feel like annabeth's character might be a little inconsistent, for which i apologize. there is method to her madness—or rather, i made a conscious choice for her to react in certain ways that may seem ooc for the personality she's had in the past few chapters. idk. let me know!
> 
> side note: i have really forgotten so many words i used to know and love. it's tragic.
> 
> also i definitely cannot post 20k words of this by midnight so i know this story won't be considered officially part of pjo/hoo big bang 2017 anymore, which is unfortunate. i'm sorry! but go read the other stories and enjoy the fanart for this year's big bang!!! there's some great content.

Annabeth paces her room angrily, cursing Percy under her breath.

“How dare he?” she asks the empty room. “What does he know about me? Nothing! He doesn’t know  _ anything _ ! Ugh!”

_ But he wasn’t exactly  _ wrong, her rationality points out.  _ You were unfair to him. _

“What? No!”

_ You were avoiding him because he’s pretty cute and kind of silly and you don’t want to like him at all, so you decided to think of him as a horrible person, all for the sake of pissing off your mother. Except she’s not even here to appreciate it. _

“No, that’s wrong. I’m angry at Percy! Justifiably!” 

_ You're angry at  _ yourself _ , justifiably, for acting like a kid. And you didn’t even notice until Percy called you out on it. _

Annabeth flops onto her sofa and groans. “Ugh, goddammit!”

_ You know I’m right _ , her rationality gloats smugly.

“Shut up, you’re me,” Annabeth pouts at the ceiling. “He  _ is _ a horrible person! He’s—he’s, um—well—”

She sinks miserably into the sofa cushions as she realizes she knows  _ so _ little about her supposed fiancé that she can’t even say anything bad about him; she doesn’t really have any opinion on him, except that he’s fairly physically attractive and assertive enough to confront her about her rude behavior towards him, which is not something that can be said about most people, now that she thinks about it. And he really wasn’t even  _ that _ impolite about it, if she’s honest with herself, which would actually have been understandable on his part.

“Shit,” she swears under her breath. “He’s actually a nice guy, isn't he. I hate this.”

_ Knock knock. _

She jolts upright and stares blankly at the door, wondering who would possibly be knocking on her door at nine o’clock in the evening and interrupting her nice, quiet night of wallowing in her guilt and hurt pride.

_ Knock knock knock _ .

Shrugging, she stalks over to her door and yanks it open.

“Hey, Annabeth,” Percy waves awkwardly, shuffling his feet. His hair is completely mussed up, like he ran his hands through it too many times, and he’s wearing what are obviously his pajamas, a well-worn blue tee and blue-and-white pinstriped pants with embroidered dolphins.

“Percy?”  _ That’s unexpected _ , she thinks as she tries not to show her leftover embarrassment. She has a reputation to uphold. Leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms in a clearly defensive position, she clears her throat and arches her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

He coughs. “I just, uh, I just wanted to apologize. You know, for earlier. I was kind of a dick, making assumptions. I—I was only joking around and—well, I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I was being inconsiderate of your, um, relationship and...stuff. Yeah.” He tries for a smile but comes off way too nervous.

_ Why is he apologizing!?  _ I _ should be—wait, what did he just say?  _ “Wait, my—relationship? What relationship?” Annabeth narrows her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

He looks bashful and confused. “You know, like, your boyfriend? I saw you two sparring in the gym earlier. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

Annabeth practically slams the door in her attempt to hide her mortified face, but Percy wedges a foot in before it smacks shut.

“Wai—ow,  _ shit _ !” he howls, gawking at his squished foot in anguish. 

“Who told you to stick your foot in?” Annabeth sniffs, wincing internally when she peeks down at his foot, but grudgingly opens the door and lets him in, leading him to her sofa.

He limps after her, wincing with every step.

“ _ You were watching us? _ ”

“I was curious! You stormed off and, I mean, I was kinda worried...”

“You—” Shaking her head, she focuses on the most important point. “Look, Luke and I are  _ not _ together, okay?” she tells him forcefully.

He nods slowly, massaging his foot. “But...you like him.”

Her face flares as she reflexively scans the room. “Shut up! Don’t you  _ dare  _ tell anyone.  _ Especially  _ not my mother.”

“But if she knew, then wouldn’t she consider—”

“Believe me, she won’t care.” Her lip curls into a snarl. “My mother thinks emotions are useless and weak.”

He looks skeptical. “But—”

“Look, just swear you won’t tell anyone? Please?”

“Fine,” he sighs. “I swear.”

“Thank you. Now please get out of my room.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” He holds out an arm and then lifts his perfectly serviceable foot, looking at her pleadingly. “I’m injured. Can’t I stay for a bit?”

She eyes him suspiciously.

“Just until it stops throbbing?” he pushes.

“Ugh. Fine. Five minutes.”

Brightening, he reclines into the sofa and asks, “So, are you still avoiding me or can we be friends now?”

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, yet unable to stop her lips from curling up, she sighs and, as if it’s a huge burden, agrees, “Yeah, okay.”

“Great!” Percy beams. “Let’s start with your life story. When and where were you born?”

“We’re doing this  _ now _ ?” Annabeth asks, incredulous. “Also, why would you start there?”

He shrugs. “Why not? We both have time to kill.”

“I was actually preparing to go to sleep—”

“At nine? Oh, Annabeth.” He looks at her pityingly.

Affronted and slightly embarrassed, she frowns at him and explains defensively, “I like to wake up early and go running before anyone else is awake, okay? Don’t judge me!”

He perks up. “Hey, me too! Except I usually go for a swim. But you don’t have to sleep  _ this _ early.”

“I just prefer it,” she answers dismissively, pretending not to be fascinated with the idea of him swimming. She’s never been a strong swimmer herself, so she can’t imagine choosing to do it every day.

“We should exercise together!” Percy suggests excitedly. “I hate running though.”

“I am  _ not  _ going to swim.”

“Aw, ‘cmon,” he whines. Then his eyes sparkle and, if she strains hard enough, Annabeth swears she can almost physically see the lightbulb turn on above his head. “Ooh, how ‘bout this! You run and I swim, and then afterwards we can spar together!” He grins, bouncing a little on the cushions. “I  _ really  _ wanna fight you.”

She snorts and raises an eyebrow. “So eager to lose?”

His grin turns challenging. “I think I can hold my own for at least a few minutes. You’re fast but I’ve got pretty good reflexes.”

“Guess we’ll see,” she smirks. “Where’d you learn to fight?”

“On the streets, mostly.” He shrugs. “I’ve picked up a bit from the castle soldiers, but I learned how to defend myself against neighborhood bullies when I was a teenager. My best friend Grover and I used to get picked on all the time, and one day we decided we might as well fight back, since we had nothing to lose.”

Annabeth frowns in deep consternation. “You were bullied? Why? I mean, I guess you can be annoying  _ sometimes  _ but...”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Mm, I don’t really know. Bullies don’t always have a reason, you know, and if they do, it’s not a very good one. I guess Grover and I just didn’t fit in with everyone else.” He shrugs. “It’s whatever now. They may have beat me up before, but now I’m their crown prince, so I’m the real winner.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she mutters. And how can he treat it so lightly? If she were in his place, she would definitely get even. “Treating you in such a way when they didn’t—even know you—” She breaks off when she remembers that she’s basically detailing her own initial behavior towards him and she turns a violent shade of red as a hot flush of shame and hypocrisy rolls through her. 

“Yeah, but I’m over it. Kids can be dumb—hey, are you okay?” He leans towards her, eyes wide with concern. “Your face is really red—”

“I’m fine!” she yelps, lurching away from him and looking away, allowing her hair to fall around her face like a curtain. “I just—realized something.” She clears her throat.

He doesn’t say anything, and she knows that he’s waiting for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. She hates being wrong, and being who she is—that is, both Athena’s daughter and Pallas’ crown princess—she’s had very little experience with apologies, but she thinks Percy deserves her sincere efforts. After all, she did willfully and selfishly misjudge his entire person.

Now if only she could manage to force the words through her teeth....

“Uh...so what did you realize?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to try to look past her hands. “And why are you covering your face?

Annabeth breathes in. “I—um, I—”

“You?”

“I...” She glances at him to find him watching her expectantly, completely clueless, and all of her courage simply  _ shatters _ . She can’t—she  _ can’t _ do it!

To her eternal chagrin, she takes the coward’s way out and blurts an excuse. “I—I’m tired! I’ll see you in the morning!”

She gets up and tries to push him off her sofa; he takes the hint and gets to his feet, staggering towards the door when she starts pushing at his back.

“Wait, I—”

“Good night!”

“Annabeth!” He manages to snag onto the door frame and throw his weight back on her hands heavily enough to stop her from bodily shoving him out the door. He twists his neck to look at her over his shoulder with immense confusion and even a bit of panic, For a second, she thinks he’s going to demand an explanation from her, but all he asks her is, “What time will you finish your run?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, six.” She stares at him for one more second, inwardly noting just how green his eyes are. Then he opens his mouth, so she hastily steps back and waves self-consciously. “Okay, bye!”

And then she slaps the door closed, his fingers escaping just before it slams shut with a click. She hears him sigh, and then his footsteps thump down the corridor, and she nearly collapses onto the ground in a hot mess of emotions, most prominently 

She doesn’t get much sleep that night, too busy rolling around and tangling in her covers as she moans and laments her disgraceful display of cowardice.

She doesn’t know how she can face him in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first time writing for the pjohoo fandom, thanks to the [pjo/hoo big bang](http://pjohoobigbang.tumblr.com), though i've been a fan for many years. i hope i do all the characters justice! enjoy!!
> 
> edit: since i failed to post at least 20k words of this story by 8/25/27, i know it won't be officially considered part of pjo/hoo big bang 2017 anymore, sadly. on another note, please do go read the other stories and enjoy the fanart for this year's big bang!!! there's some great content.


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